


a f t e r m a t h ;

by codependentsoulmates



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brother Feels, Coda, Episode: s10e03 Soul Survivor, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 12:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2507195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codependentsoulmates/pseuds/codependentsoulmates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He nearly killed his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a f t e r m a t h ;

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a much needed coda for the episode that had us all on the edge of our seats. Unbeta'ed

He just tried to kill his brother. If Cas hadn't stepped in when he did, there is no doubt in Dean's mind that his brother would be dead right now. The thought of it, of having Sam's heart in his hands and Sam's blood on his face makes him physically ill. He rushes to the bathroom, propelled by nausea and drops to his knees in front of the toilet, quickly raising the lid and throwing up. He's loud and the retching itself is disgusting to his own ears and bile makes his throat burn and eyes water. He can't believe he nearly killed Sam. He reaches up to flush the toilet then slumps against it, wrapping his arms around the cool porcelain. He tried to play off his fears of Sam leaving him like it was a joke to Cas earlier, using the word 'divorce' as a punch line. But there was far more truth in that question than he even let himself admit.

There really wasn't any other way to describe his and Sam's relationship than with that of a married couple. He knows that now. They passed being 'just brothers' a long time ago, Dean's not even sure when. He just knows that somewhere along the lines of their fucked up existence Sam stopped being 'my brother' and began being 'my everything'. No relationship he's ever had with anyone: friend or lover, could ever come close to what he had with Sam. Sam could make him smile when the weight of the world became too much. When all he wanted in life was to move through this job numb and alcohol soaked, Sam made him feel the true meaning of passion and adoration. He could write sonnets about this kid.

And he nearly killed him.

The gravity of the situation hits him with an intensity that makes him gasp out a broken sob. He nearly _murdered_ Sam. His raison d'etre (he learned that when Sam took a year of French at school; only bothered to learn it because it described how he felt when he saw Sam smile), his sun, his moon, his stars, his _all_ and he nearly killed him. Dean is not a cryer. But when he cries, he breaks with delicate chaos like a mirror shattering and covering the floor in rainbow prisms. His sobs are silent but his body shakes. He wonders how in the hell Sam could ever forgive him for this one.

He doesn't even touch on the things he _said_ to Sam. He can't even forgive himself for voicing the one thing he _knew_ wasn't Sam's fault.

He can hear Sam calling for him but he can't find it in himself to pick himself up and wipe the tears away. He can barely breathe for how heavily he's weeping and he gasps for air with big gulps that hurt his throat. Maybe he manages to let Sam know where he is, maybe Sam just felt it, he has no idea but soon he feels the comforting arms of his brother surrounding him and hears Sam saying "hey, hey, what's wrong?"

And where does Dean begin? Where does Dean begin to even begin to attempt to apologize for everything he put Sam through? There are so many words he needs to say, so many things he has to take back; to reassure Sam that he didn't mean any of it. But all he can say is, "I'm so sorry." And after he says that it's like the dam has been broken yet all coherency is lost. He latches onto those three words, clinging to Sam in a way he'll deny vehemently come morning - hands roaming all over Sam's body as if to make sure that it's not just a dream, that he really was stopped just in time to keep his brother alive.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it. I swear I didn't mean it. You're not to blame, I promise. You're everthing to me, God, you're so perfect. I'm so fucking sorry. I would never really pick that scum over you, you gotta believe me, Sammy. Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. I'm so sorry, please don't leave me, I need you, you gotta know that. I'm so so sorry, I didn't mean it, I didn't mean any of it. Please forgive me, Sammy, please you gotta... you gotta... I love you so much, so fucking much I'm so sorry, so sorry."

He's babbling now, he's sure of it. He doesn't even know if Sam can understand him, if he's making any sense. But Sam cups his face, forcing him away gently so they can make eye contact. Dean blinks and through a split second of clarity through his tears he can see that Sam has been crying too. And God he feels even worse, he's made Sam cry.

"It's okay," Sam's saying. And how could it possibly be okay? "I forgive you, Dean, I do, I do." Sam holds him close, almost squeezing him and Dean couldn't care less. He wraps his arms around Sam's waist, feels their hearts beating in tandem.

"I love you," he whispers desperately. He doesn't say it nearly enough and he really shouldn't be saying it at a time like this. It's like saying it to his date on prom night, almost, but he can't think of anything else to say. "I love you, so fucking much, I'm so fucking sorry. It wasn't me, I swear it wasn't me."

"I love you too," Sam responds, he hiccups and Dean holds him tighter. "I know it wasn't, I know I know I know."

Dean doesn't know how long they stay like that, tangled up in each other on the cold floor of the bathroom but it's long after their sobs have subsided to quiet hiccups each. They whisper "I love you" and "I'm so sorry" and "I know, I know, I know" until their throats feel rough and their lips are dry but they don't leave for water. They stay there, wrapped in each other; Sam whispers into Dean's hair, he doesn't know what Sam's saying but it feels nice, and Dean reponds by whispering against the skin stretched over Sam's collar bone.

Come morning, Dean will act as if this complete and utter destruction of his carefully put together facade never happened. But right now, he's content to feel Sam's heart beat next to his. A constant reminder that Sam is alive and his, even if Dean doesn't deserve it.


End file.
